


Pull Me Closer

by uncafeavecbarnes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bearded Steve Rogers, Beards (Facial Hair), Clothed Sex, Counter Sex, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Quickies, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncafeavecbarnes/pseuds/uncafeavecbarnes
Summary: After months on the run, you're finally reunited with Steve in Wakanda and desperation gets the better of you both.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Pull Me Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves. This is the first Steve Rogers piece I have ever written, thank you for the original request because I just couldn’t imagine it any other way than with a primal Nomad!Steve. We truly are deserving of more of that man with a beard.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

Stolen kisses in darkened bars. Secret trysts in hotel rooms that charge by the hour. Hushed conversations over pay phones. A relationship under strain after the fallout of the Avengers. A dull ache that’s become a constant finally settles as the clouds part, revealing mountains with jagged edges set against the glowing sky. Wild animals racing through valleys of lush trees and sparkling streams. A pair of horseback riders wave as the jet passes and you’re smiling, butterflies blooming in your belly because you’re here. You’re finally  _ here _ . In Wakanda. And you’re seeing  _ Steve _ .

Months have passed, perhaps even more. Days blur into one another in Steve’s absence. A good reason, there always is with him. But being apart takes its toll. All that fades away when the jet finally lands. Right in the heart of Wakanda, the palace looms before you in all its glory. Two instantly recognisable figures greet you with all the warmth of good friends.

Okoye is quick to compliment you, a knowing playfulness behind her words. A faint heat rises on your cheeks as you smooth down your dress. Navy with white polka dots, it ties in the front, the hem barely brushing your knees. Despite her teasing, you giggle along with her. T’Challa chuckles too, escorting you from the palace and out to the lush greenery that surrounds the city.

“Perhaps later you will allow me to show you the beauty of Wakanda,” he says, hands clasped behind his back. “But, I think Captain Rogers could not bear waiting a minute longer.”

An unmistakable figure looms in the distance and your heart skips a beat. A smirk from T’Challa, accompanied by a nod and your feet are carrying you as fast as they can. There’s a joke about re-enacting the cheesiest moment of a romantic comedy on the tip of your tongue, you’re sure you’ll make it later but right now, _right_ _now,_ Steve is the only thing that matters.

Steve sees it coming, sees you throwing yourself into his arms. A delighted “ _ oof _ ” as you collide with his hard chest. He’s hoisting you up, legs winding around his waist as you bury your face in his neck. It’s overwhelming, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest because you’re  _ here _ , here in his arms. You’re inhaling in his scent, the one that no longer lingers on your sheets. Sandalwood, lavender, and something that’s just so distinctly  _ Steve _ .

Another note too, but Steve’s pulling back slightly, a sweet whisper about wanting to see your face. And in that moment, you feel your breath catch. He’s in his suit, the Captain America one. It’s faded and bares remnants of his latest adventure. Skin a little sweaty and browned. But no, it’s not his suit that has you so enraptured. Steve has a  _ beard _ . A thick, beautiful beard that covers his jaw. Blue eyes bright as your gaze rakes over it.

Steve strokes his beard consciously. Words struggle to string together, no coherent thought available to describe how you feel. He’s apologetic, the last few months have been tiresome, left him with little time to take care of himself. A violent shake of your head. No, no, that’s not it. Steve looks  _ hot _ . The beard, the swept back hair, the dirtied suit that’s now missing a silver star. Your heart’s racing again, for a very different reason.

The expression on your face must reveal more than you know. Steve’s arms draw you in, the first kiss leaves you breathless and begging for more. Lips, slightly rough but warm all the same. It’s passionate, consuming, the kind of kiss that ignites a desire only Steve knows how to fulfil. An urgency about you both, your fingers grasping at his hair as his kisses turn sloppy, messy even. He can’t get enough of you and you need no persuasion to give in.

God, Steve tastes like  _ heaven _ . Sweet and seductive. His hand cups your cheek, tilting your face and he’s kissing you so deeply you’re no longer certain where he ends and you begin. A whimper, body pressed flushed to his. Heat radiates from him, fuel to your desire.

A stumble through the grass. Escaped giggles and moans when his tongue teases yours. Every inch of you burning but it has less to do with the Wakandan sunshine and more to do with the man whose mouth chases yours greedily. You nip at his bottom lip, revelling in the gasp that drifts through the air. You’re not any quieter yourself, moaning with unabashed want when his hands run over the curve of your ass. Rough fingers catch briefly on your thighs, and then he’s lifting you in the air, carrying you into a hut.

“Steve,” you moan breathily. “Steve, I  _ can’t _ \- I need you  _ now _ .”

“I know, sweetheart,” he groans back. “God, I can’t wait either.”

You’re unceremoniously dropped on to a small wooden table that sits by the entrance to the hut. It rattles somewhat but you pay it no mind, legs parting in invitation and Steve’s between them in an instant. A loud rip, followed by a low growl and he’s all but torn your dress open. Darkened eyes cling to your exposed breasts, nipples hardening under his gaze. He’s caught between wanting to worship you and the mounting desperation to be buried deep in your heat. A split second, and then you’re a writhing mess as he scatters open-mouthed kisses all over your breasts. Tongue darting out, flicking over your nipples and you’re overwhelmed with need.

The beard, it scratches coarsely against your soft skin but it’s  _ divine _ . The plethora of sensations has you arching into him, the hardness in his pants insistent against your drenched core. Steve’s fingers pull your panties down. Another animalistic growl. His fingers glide through your wet folds, circling your clit and it’s driving you  _ crazy _ . Mindless babbles, ones that desperately beg Steve. The humidity of the hut and the heat pooling in your belly engulfing you. You’re dizzy,  _ aching _ for him.

Fingers curve around Steve’s broad shoulders, the dust there coating your fingers and as much as you’d like to feel his hard chest beneath your hands, there’ll be plenty of time to explore one another later. Right now, you’re both driven by your need for each other. You undo Steve’s pants hurriedly, fingers trembling with anticipation. An impossible tightening in your core because you feel him nudging at your entrance. You want to feel him. You want to feel  _ all of him _ .

A shuddering moan rips through the air, coupling with Steve’s groan. You’ve forgotten how  _ good _ he feels, stretching you impossibly. It stings in the most delightful way. A scrunch of his face, eyes fluttering because he’s trying so hard to hold back. Fingernails dig into his shoulder, strong enough for him to register the bite through his suit. He gasps your name, beard scratching the sensitive skin of your neck. A slight movement. Your eyes widen.

“Bucky!”

Steve’s eyes snap open. An incredulous expression.

“What?” he demands. “Did you just- “

“No, Steve!  _ Bucky _ .”

A glance over his shoulder. Right there, leaning against the dining table, is the recovering, former Winter Soldier. A mischievous grin that curves his mouth wide. A raise of his cup and he slurps loudly.

“Morning.” he says musically, dragging the word out.

Steve growls in such a  _ filthy _ way it makes you whimper, walls fluttering. It earns you a gasp, one which doesn’t go unnoticed by your unwitting audience.

“Bucky,” snarls Steve through gritted teeth. “Either get the  _ fuck _ out of here or stay and  _ shut up _ . I don’t care which, but I need to  _ move _ .”

Proving his point perhaps, Steve turns his attention back to you. And without so much as a care, he pulls back out before thrusting into you.  _ Hard _ . A keening moan is wrenched from you, thighs clenching around his waist. Bucky sighs and puts down his cup with a wave of his hand. It’s outrageous, your whole body flushing, but you’re at Steve’s mercy. And he’s hellbent on fucking you senseless, in the presence of his best friend or otherwise.

“Alright, I’ll go feed my goats,” says the brunette dramatically. “You two stay here and defile my hut.”

Embarrassment seems to be drowned out by pleasure. Your eyes fluttering and grip on Steve tightening. You care little that Bucky’s right there, pulling a shawl over the stump of his left shoulder.

“Hey, I built that table with my one good arm. Don’t you dare ruin it, punk.”

A string of swears hurled from Steve. Finally, you’re left alone. Blue eyes glowing with devilish desire stare you down. Fingers gripping you by the hips in a punishing hold. His hips rock into yours slowly, teasingly so. He’s dragging it out, every glide of his cock sending sparks up your spine. Mouth on your ear, dirty promises of making you forget everyone’s name but  _ his _ .

Steve’s kiss isn’t gentle or sweet. It’s hard and demanding. His tongue tangling with yours and then he’s peppering kisses all over your neck. A harsh nip in time with a particularly rough thrust. You’re a wanton mess, anchoring yourself to him as he drives you to the brink of insanity. It’s so intense, the pleasure. Steve’s hard, big and  _ thick _ , the head of his cock grazing that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he says huskily, it’s a jolt of pleasure to your core. “Missed this, missed filling you up like this.”

You’re close, so painfully close. All from those few words. And everything suddenly sends you into overdrive. Mind blank to all but Steve. The material of his suit coarse against your nipples. Powerful fingers bruising your hips. Breath hot on your ear. You’re dizzy, heady with arousal, on the precipice of bliss and Steve is right there with you. A choked out command telling you to come,  _ just for me, sweetheart _ .

You’re falling apart, unravelling, coming undone. Orgasm barrelling down on you, Steve’s hips rutting against yours and the pleasure is seemingly endless. Wave upon wave of it, you let the bliss crash through you as Steve  _ loses _ it. He’s  _ gorgeous _ , spilling into you with a primal groan, one you’ve never heard before but it’s utterly  _ erotic _ .

Trembling thighs. Ragged breaths. Steve makes no effort to move, still buried deep in you. A creak of warning. Steve yelps and you scream, tumbling to the floor as the table beneath you collapses. Eyes wide with mortification, you glance at the ruined planks of wood. Steve meets your gaze. Loud footsteps. A cry of frustration.

“You  _ animals _ ! Couldn’t you wait for a goddamn bed?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hello on Tumblr](http://uncafeavecbarnes.tumblr.com/)


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